Phantom
by Resggy
Summary: Astrid owed it all to him, her secret and strange phantom. But when the time comes to choose between the light and the darkness, her tribe and her heart, Astrid can't decide. [Phantom of the Opera AU] Hiccstrid
1. Christine, Christine

Chapter 1

/Christine, Christine/

* * *

Cold, steely eyes looked down on the exhibition below. The senior class of dragon-fighters fought on. Some against one another, others against worn and bloody hardwood posts, all of them, Viking youth drenched in sweat and covered in bruises.

"Your best?" Drogo Bludvist asked, without turning. His eyes were on one warrior in particular. This one hit harder, moved faster-she was a blur of strength and ferocity compared to her classmates.

The headmaster almost didn't need to follow his gaze. "Astrid Hofferson. She's been training with us for five years now and it shows." Stoick the Vast said evenly. He tried to conceal the pride in his voice, hoping Drogo would not detect it. "Only a few, more experienced fighters, could compare." _That didn't help_ , he berated himself.

Below them, Astrid side-stepped out of a fist aimed to her face. In a split second, Astrid yanked her opponent's outstretched arm towards her, kneed the chest on its way down, and smashed the jaw for good measure. Drago could hear the bones crack from where he was. Was it that she was that strong or was he just paying that much attention? He watched on as she wiped the sweat off her brow, sweeping her blonde bangs to the side. Then she looked up, straight to his face, as if she had known he was watching her.

* * *

Astrid looked up, eyeing the familiar shadow propped on the banisters. Her phantom was there, crouching only inches from where her headmaster and his visitor observed her class from the arena's balcony. He was unseen to all-except her. He flashed a smile beneath his masked eyes, and raised his hand slightly in greeting. _Well aren't you scary?_ She heard his voice in her mind, patronizing and a bit nasal.

Careful not to give his position away, Astrid turned her back to him, calling for a new challenger. Another voice came from above.

"Enough." Said Stoick, barley needing to raise his voice. Her class stopped and stood in attention in an instant. Most of them knew him as their headmaster, the head trainer of this school from fighting dragons. Only a few them, Astrid included, called him chief. "It is time for the final presentation. Clear the arena."

Students, trainers, and arena attendants grabbed what weapons and equipment they could and moved out of the way. Astrid moved to the sidelines and stood among her classmates, axe in hand. Ruffnut, beside her, leaned in to whisper, "Any ideas yet?" They had known there would be a final show for the headmaster's honored guest, but no one was told what it would be.

Astrid shrugged, "Maybe a one-on-one?"

Ruffnut seemed to like that idea. "Yeah! Against a dragon!"

Astrid' eyes widened in panic. She hadn't thought of that. Surely they wouldn't... And while _he_ here watching? She had to stop this-

"Hofferson. Front and center."

A soldier to her core, Astrid obeyed without thinking. She made her way to the center of the arena floor and faced the two men standing on the balcony above. "Yes, Chief." Of course it was her. It was always her.

Stoick the Vast held back a grimace. Before him stood a Berkian, one of the last Hairy Hooligans, here to train and avenge her tribe. Could he really stomach this? Risk her, of all people?

"Warrior," Drogo addressed her. "You are the best of your peers, or so they say. Show me what the best can do." He gave the signal. Two things happened: the guard by the heavy steel gate moved to open it and her axe was taken from her. She was to do this unarmed.

Stoick and her peers watched in anticipation, Drogo, excitement. What her phantom thought at the moment, she couldn't say. But as the gate lifted and she came face to face with the dragon coming towards her, Astrid had no thought. She just saw blue.

Astrid didn't disappoint. It wasn't a quick fight, but her reflexes, training and quick thinking were undeniable. Her every move seemed to be two steps ahead of the dragon's next strike. Stoick could hardly believe his eyes. He'd never seen this kind of fight against a dragon. All he's known and taught his warriors-in-training was coming in with full force, staying low, and making us of blind spots. Astrid was somersaulting along the dragon's back, dodging around its swinging, spiked tail and bursts of white-hot fire like she was dancing.

Astrid dived under the dragon at the right moment, sliding under its belly unseen and rose behind it. While the beast distractedly looked for her, Astrid leaped onto its back from behind and quickly made it up to its neck, barely wrapping her arms around its neck.

The cheers from her watching classmates and the shrieks of the dragon filled the arena.

"She's riding it!" Someone in the crowd cried. "She's _riding_ a dragon!"

Astrid released her right hand from its grip on the dragon's neck and reached higher. If she could just reach that spot...

As the dragon thrashed about trying to shake off the Viking, it craned its neck down in the right angle. Astrid's fingers made contact and scratched-firm and gentle as she was taught.

With a noise that was mix of clicks and a purr, the dragon went limp and crashed onto the arena floor. The crowd was small but its cheer filled the arena ten times louder than before-one of their own had taken down a dragon. This victory was an omen of glory to come. It was as if their hearts were singing _If she could do it, so can we._ Astrid let go of the neck and slid off the still beast.

Drogo was pleased enough to smile. "Well done. Now," he gave another signal and her axe was returned to her. "Finish it."

Astrid turned away from him, her chief and the crowd. This was it—what she dreaded the moment the chief called her name. Only the unconscious dragon could have seen her face-torn and helpless. She gripped her axe. _What do I do?_ She stepped closer to the dragon once more and stopped. What could she do? The war raged within her. Kill the dragon, and she wouldn't and couldn't ever live with herself. Refuse to and she'd expose herself... Her true loyalty... _Him_...

"You try my patience, warrior." Drogo continued, frowning. Stoick didn't argue with him-what was she waiting for? "Kill that mindless beast now or your skill in battle means noth-"

"Am I not allowed to savor my first kill?" She said loudly, making sure every inch of the arena could hear her. _Hear me._ She said in her mind, to him and him alone. She raised her axe over the dragon's blue, scaly neck. _Stop me._

She swung her axe down and it clanged sharply against metal. Astrid looked up and there he was. Her phantom, now only inches from her, crossing her axe with his sword. She didn't need to pretend to be in shock. Astrid had never been this close to him before.

His eyes-forest green, she had to remember-flashed beneath his black mask. "Deflect." He said, loud enough for only her to hear. He moved his sword to strike her. She blocked it just in time by the hilt of her axe, but in her disbelief, didn't have the strength to keep her balance. The phantom's strike pushed her back and off her feet. His next move was to raise it sword again, but this time, pointed it to Drogo Bludvist, who watched from the balcony.

"This will end with you." The phantom called out to him, his voice made ominous and haunting. No one moved. Her classmates out of fear, the chief in rage, Astrid in awe. Drogo could only grip the ledge from where he stood. He knew a challenger when he saw one.

The phantom's next and last move was to smash something to the floor, then he and the downed dragon were engulfed in green smoke. Her classmates and arena attendants and trainers suddenly found their courage and rushed into the mist, weapons at the ready, but Astrid knew it was useless. When the smoke cleared a moment later, her phantom and the dragon were gone.


	2. Angel, I hear you

Chapter 2

/Angel, I hear you/

* * *

"Again, it was a pleasure to meet you."

Eret, son of Eret, Drogo's up and coming commander, said it so softly that Astrid almost didn't hear him. With one last gentle press of his lips on her bruised and scared knuckles, Eret turned and followed the Chief and Bludvist out the arched doorway of the receiving chamber.

It was hours later, after the fiasco of the final presentation, after the victory party in the privacy of her class' sleeping quarters. Astrid had been summoned away to meet with the headmaster, his honored guest, and this Eret, son of Eret, who was insistent to meet her.

They were impressed, generous with their compliments, and expressed their interest in her future. Astrid let it all wash over her, her mind somewhere else entirely.

Now she was alone, and hope bloomed in her heart. Before today, he'd always find her when she was alone, whether it was in deserted hallways, or private, forgotten training rooms. He usually startles her with a snarky comment.

"Wow, what a charmer."

Like that.

Astrid turned towards the voice, finding her phantom lounging on one of the corner banisters, as if he'd been there the whole time. "You're here." She said, disbelieving.

He tilted his masked face slightly. "Don't I always keep tabs on you? Thought you'd be used to it by now..." He said, his tone casual. While keeping his balance, he jumped onto his feet and started walking and swinging about the banisters, switching the use of his arms and legs in too quick a pace. This used to make Astrid nervous-afraid that he would fall. His confidence and lazy skill has since proven her otherwise.

"You were exceptional today, milady," He continued. "Predicting the Nadder's attack pattern… then going for the knot on her throat…" Her phantom stopped when he realized Astrid wasn't listening, but looking up at him, disbelievingly. They'd grown close and comfortable in their time together, of course her strange demeanor would put him off. "Astrid?"

"I thought... I thought you'd be angry..." said Astrid plainly. "I didn't think you'd come see me again."

By the rise of his shoulders and chest and small shake of his head, she knew he sighed deeply. "That wasn't your fault, Astrid. You didn't know that they'd pit you against a dragon. You didn't have a choice-"

"But what if I killed it?" She cut in. "And I almost did if you hadn't come."

"But I _did_ come. You wouldn't have killed her. I got your signal." Her phantom continued to reason. "I heard you, Astrid."

For years, he'd stun her with simple comments like that. Was he a mind reader, or she just an open book? She would have pondered on it more, but he suddenly dropped down from the banisters, landing on balls of his feet. He stood, and took careful steps towards her. Her phantom would come and stand within her reach twice in one day. She could hardly believe it.

He's kept his distance all this time, either speaking to her-instructing her, from atop the banisters, or rafters-sometimes from across the room. Astrid's heart hammered in her chest, she was almost sure he could hear it.

Why she was so drawn to him, Astrid couldn't understand. When he'd first made himself known to her, she was an angry teenager, ready to take on any and all dragons to avenge her tribe-to avenge...

A shy, flecked face with a lopsided smile flashed in her mind's eye.

Astrid shook her head and willed the memory away. She was different now, a woman grown with a new purpose. Her phantom had shown her the truth about dragons and had been teaching her how to care for and train them. They would meet late into the night-friends from class assuming she was putting in more hours in her training. They were half right. Astrid had lost count on how many new dragons her phantom has introduced to her—all tame and easily under his control. With a simple gesture, or some instruction spoken in clicks and grunts, the dragons would freely and fearlessly approach her—befriend her. _Someday, they'll show you how to fly,_ he'd said before. He had shown her a life beyond the ruin and rage of her people. And now, after so long of settling for his voice and wisdom, her phantom stood before her, in flesh and blood.

He was tall, she realized, standing at least half a head taller than her. He wore a fitted leather helmet, studded with dark horns to resemble a dragon's head. From a far, she could sometimes make out his mouth-especially when he smiled at her-but how, his whole face was hidden, expect for the two eyes locked on her hers.

Green like the forests of her youth-the forests of Berk.

"How do you know," she started, itching to touch him. "How do you know I wouldn't have?"

"Because I know you, Astrid. You know better. You're different." Like a wish granted, he raised his hand towards her, his palm spread open, hovering between them-a gesture she recognized instantly. It's how he subdued unruly and untamed dragons. In this moment, it was an open door to what she only ever had in dreams.

Astrid mirrored him, and touched her hand to his, their fingers and palms pressing into each other. A shiver ran down her spine and a fire blazed in her chest.

Something flashed in her phantom's eyes, as if he had been asking her question and she just gave him the answer he wanted. "I..."

The spell broke as faint and faraway footsteps echoed into the chamber. Astrid couldn't tell if they were headed here, but from how well she knew her phantom, he wouldn't risk it. Of course the gods wouldn't let this last. Cursing her fate, she started pulling her hand back, already letting him go in her mind, when he suddenly grasped hers even tighter.

"Come with me."

Astrid was struck dumb with the question. Did he mean right now? For how long? For forever? Come with him to where? Logic, reason, and caution all screamed in her head. At least the realization that he didn't ask a question silenced the hammering of her heart.

The footsteps grew louder. Whoever it was, they were definitely coming this way. Her phantom tugged her hand closer, almost crushing it to his chest. "Astrid, come with me."

Her eyes searched his hidden face. She tried to imagine what lay beneath the mask. Who was this man she was about to give herself to? His voice and presence had been both the light to her world of dark caverns and fiery nightmares, all the while being a complete mystery to her. But there was always something about him, how his soul always seemed to resonate with hers… how his voice soothed the storm in her mind.

"Astird."

It was so different... to hear him say her name up so close. She tuned out the voice of logic and reason and caution and gave him her other hand. By the crinkle of his eyes, she knew he smiled. He dropped her hands to pull her by the waist until Astrid was flush against him. Her face burned. He smelled of steel and sweat.

And air—as if the wind itself was etched onto his skin.

The footsteps were almost at them now. Beneath the mask, he made a clicking, warbling sound, then a long, black, scaled tail shot down from the banisters, wrapped around them both, pulling Astrid and her phantom to what might as well have been the unknown above.

xx


End file.
